


Somebody To Love

by ThalassicThedes (50niftiesus)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Based on a True Story, First Time, M/M, summertime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 15:07:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15776565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50niftiesus/pseuds/ThalassicThedes
Summary: It's the 60s in California and Patrick Kane loses his virginity.





	Somebody To Love

**Author's Note:**

> Sup.
> 
> This is based off how a member from Jefferson Airplane lost their virginity.
> 
> I'm not a seasoned writer by any means, but I'd say smut is not a strength of mine. Whatever. I tried.
> 
> There's a playlist in the end notes.
> 
> Please, enjoy! :)

_1964\. The first Irish Catholic president has been dead for almost a year. Race riots occurred in just about every major city despite LBJ passing the Civil Rights Act. Not only were British scientists crossing the Atlantic headed for the states, but so were its musicians. The British Invasion was the result. Roy Orbison, Simon and Garfunkle, and Ella Fitzgerald were the few American acts to stick high up the charts with all the Beatles songs taking over the radios. War raged on in Vietnam, for no fucking reason. Elizabeth Taylor got married again. And My Fair Lady was slammin’ it at the box office._

Patrick in his ripe old age of sixteen hadn't cared for much beyond his little nook of the world. He supposes most kids his age don’t wanna deal with all the heavy stuff, just hang loose, enjoy the ease while they still can. Sure the world had its problems, but protesting was for the college kids.

California with its sunshine and long stretch of Pacific coastline was the closest thing to paradise Pat thinks he'll ever experience. There was always something going on, something to do, and everyone was so laid back. You moved at your own leisure and people would let you be. His family was healthy. They were happy with their lot in life, so why wasn’t he?

Patrick first knew he was cut from a different mold the moment he realized he hadn't hung Ricky Nelson posters on his wall for his music back when he was twelve. And he didn’t idolize Elvis for his dancing when he was ten. He hadn’t watched “The Long, Hot Summer,” with Paul Newman in his tight, grease-stained wife-beater for the love of cinema when he was fourteen.

He was attracted to dudes.

But this, of course, was his little secret.

Very few knew he was gay. There was his best friend, Judy and his younger sister, Erica. With dad caught up at work and mom stuck running the household, his parents were blissfully unaware.

Erica was confused. She probably had hoped to catch him looking at playboys or doing something incriminating to snitch on him, but… What shocked the hell out of him was when she gathered herself immediately and promised not to tell. It's likely she's just as terrified of their parents finding out as he is.

Patrick didn't care what people thought of him.

Being gay felt natural. It felt right. It was what he felt comfortable with.

What really worried him was his family and all the crap they’d get by association. Patrick hopes they love him enough not to disown him should the truth reveal itself. It really put a weight on his chest. But keeping it a secret wasn't that hard. He was like any other boy, except he didn't chase skirts. And no one suspected a thing.

As for his friend, Judy, well she found out a whole lot sooner.

 

~*~

  

“Patty, how do I look? If you were into chicks would you wanna fuck me?”

They were at her place waiting for their ride.

He answered, “You look great Judes.”

Which was the truth. She wasn’t Sacred Heart Academy’s back-to-back Miss Teen Queen for nothing.

 

~*~

 

Judy Lloyd was his closest friend since the move from LA to Santa Maria when his dad finally transferred locations after Pat’s graduation from middle school. The city of Santa Maria itself was… bland.

One day, out of the blue, Judy approached him at Hal’s diner.

He was just leaning casually against the jukebox, listening to his play of “Lonely Blue Boy.” Patrick saw that all her gal pals were watching from their booth where they were sipping on their floats and shakes.

“Hi, I’m Judy.” Her lips were all smiles but her eyes were driven. It freaked him the hell out how forward this chick was being.

And sure, she was pretty, like a brunette Ann Margret, but she wasn’t his bag.

Nonetheless, he responded, “Patrick,” with a nod.

She made a show of licking her lips, “A fan of Conway, are you Patsy?”

He held back a cringe at the use of a nickname.

“Yeah, his lyrics speak to me,” he replied flatly.

“Well,” she bent forward to flash some cleavage under the guise of placing her nickel on the jukebox, “next turn, I get ‘Pretty Blue Eyes,’ by Steve Lawrence.”

She had said this all while staring directly into his eyes.

He shrugged,“Whatever you want, lady.” He rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes to enjoy the rest of the song.

Aware of her audience, he heard the girl huff, “And, ‘Save The Last Dance,’ by The Drifters.” She then trailed a hand down the exposed skin of his chest where he’d left a few top buttons undone. Her fingers were cold. His eyes flashed right open. “What are you-”

“Shh,” she placed a finger to his lips. She began a sensual sway of her hips. “Wanna dance?”

He shook his head.

She slipped a folded paper from inside her bra into his shirt pocket, “Call me later, doll." With that, she winked, tossed her shoulder-length hair back and blew him a kiss before reaching the table of squealing teenage girls.

Nothing would’ve come of that encounter had it not been for his sister bringing it up at dinner.

“Pat got a girl’s number at Hal’s today, Daddy.”

His dad set his paper down and his brows nearly touched his hairline, quite a feat since he was bald. “Really?”

His mother was scandalized, “Patrick!”

He scowled at Erica, “That’s the last time I take you out for a sundae, you little twerp.”

“Patrick, you mean to tell me you flirt with these young girls in the presence of your little sister?”

“Ugh, mom. I'm totally not little.” Piped Erica.

Pat turned to his mother, “I didn’t- I was just at the jukebox and she was at the counter talking to Margie and then she- this chick came up to me-”

“Pat, next time don’t let your sister out of your sight.” His father then sounded a bit impressed, “She came up to you, eh?” He chuckled to himself, “Good to see the old Kane charm hasn't skipped a generation.”

“Pat, honey, I want you to invite her over for dinner. You've never once brought a girl home and she came up to you? There’s something odd about that.”

It’s funny she thought a girl being too forward was odd and not her son ever admitting to having a crush or dating. She probably thought he was shy.

He sighed in defeat, “Okay, mom.”

His whole family crowded around him when he invited Judy over the telephone to dinner the next night.

She was fast to accept.

They were shocked he was able to land such a fox. And Judy had turned the charm up to ten, all politeness and grace. Gone were the tight skirts and cleavage from the day before, tonight she donned a simple A-line dress and cardigan buttoned all the way to the top.

Patrick showed her his room, with the door wide open at his mother’s insistence.

He felt a fissure of danger with her invading his private sanctuary.

The two sat on the edge of his bed in silence before she leaned forward and kissed his closed mouth. Pat stiffened.

His first kiss. 

He didn't like the way her waxy lip gloss smeared over his lips.

She pulled away and frowned, “What’s wrong? Don’t you want me?”

His throat was dry when he tried to swallow. “Judy, your pretty and- and I’m sure you’re nice and all, but-”

The worry lines on her forehead disappear.

“Paul Newman, huh?” She put a stop to his blabbering.

Her line of vision went back and forth between his own eyes and the Long Hot Summer poster on the wall behind him.

Judy turned cold. Something clicked in her brain. He could see it. She stood abruptly.

“Judy, wait-”

The room spun as he stood.

“No guy’s ever…” Judy broke off at a loss.

She was probably gonna go berserk and scream. Or storm out his room straight to his parents. Cause a fucking scene and expose him for what he is. Shit, his mom would drag him to church and have him exorcised. His dad- well he couldn't even begin to imagine.

He felt woozy, like the pit of his stomach had flipped inside out.

Judy’s expression softened at the sight of his panic, “It’s okay. Who can resist boys?”

His eyes burned, “Thanks. And uh, sorry my parents made you come for dinner. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang with some freak.”

“Hey, no angel face. You're not a freak for being attracted to, you know. Just keep it to yourself. For now. You headed to my school, right? My friends are cool, they’ll dig you.”

He felt himself smile, “Okay.” He was glad to have his assumptions wrong.  And then after some silence,“You were my first kiss,” he said a little somberly.

She wasn’t without remorse, “Sorry it was me.”

At the start of the school year, everyone thought Judy and Pat had some torrid summer love affair that somehow ended with them as friends. He never went after any girls which led them to think he still had feelings for Judy. Many of Judy’s boyfriends hadn’t liked how close they were. She’d just dump them for being assholes.

Though he will admit it was a lonely life pretending you were Natalie Woods in, “Splendor In The Grass” just so he could date Warren Beatty by proxy. In actuality he'd rather be Juanita, at least she got to fuck him. Even at the drive-ins, he wasn't able to escape the romantic void in his life, with all the couples necking it in the cars around him. They sure don't call them passion pits for nothing. A guy's right hand could only give him so much physical release.

So yeah, he missed home a lot, and maybe he needs to get laid, but he’s glad to have Judy.

 

~*~

 

Patrick kept alternating between tapping his foot, checking the time, and fixing his hair. Judy smiled and fixed his collar, “Stop fidgeting Pat, you’re a stud. Like a Ken doll with a perm. You're just fab.”

He rolled his eyes, “Gee Judy, you really know how to make a fella feel swell.”

She laughed like the chime of a bell.

Patrick just had to ask, “It’s just, is he a sure thing? I’m not gonna get pounded on once we get to his place, right?”

He was sweating under his black and gray striped cadet sweater. It fit snug against his growing shoulders. The day was as hot as any in the summer, but the night would cool. He was sensitive to temperatures.

“Oh, sweetie. I'd never put you in danger,” Judy opened her little compact mirror to start dabbing on some blush. “How about I tell you about him? To calm your nerves?”

She bared her teeth at her reflection to check for any lipstick, “Now, Jonny has a rep but it's on the down low. He’s cool. No one will ever know save for us four.”

Then Judy looked him dead on, “And oh, Patrick. If you thought Jean Marino was a heartthrob, just one look at Jonny Toews and you'll die.”

His face heated at the possibilities. He hadn't thought of what he'd look like.

“Tall, dark, and handsome. Saw him at the beach the other day, imagine Rock Hudson cutting waves.”

Now that’s a sight.

“You surf turf, right? The wooden boards with wheels?”

His main mode of transportation when he wasn't hanging with Judy and her steadies.

“Yeah, I skateboard.”

She let out an excited squeal, “Gosh! It's like a double date with one of my girlfriends except it's you and we're both getting fucked!”

He was so glad she was an only child with an absent father and mother who insisted on drinking herself under the table at every charity event she attended. It left the house completely vacant.

“Jesus, Judes. Why not call up the station and broadcast it to the world, will ya? Oh God, I haven't even thought about Richie!”

Richard Stevens was Judy's current beau, they've been going steady for just over a year now and were just disgustingly pda all the time. Patrick was a bit of a third wheel whenever they hanged cause girls eventually figured not to bother with him. And everyone thought he still carried a torch for Judy. Richard seemed cool, but Pat didn’t exactly trust him.

“Don’t you worry about Richie. I got him right by the balls, Patty. He won’t tell a soul.”

Judy had long since learned that men got a loose tongue when in the throes of ecstasy. She used it to her advantage.

“This Jonny dude doesn't know I'm a virgin, does he?”

He worried the guy wouldn’t have time for virgins. He’d probably wanna get right to it. Get his kicks first.

She leveled him a look, “Baby, there's nothing wrong with a little inexperience. Some guys get turned on by it, you know? Like exploring a new frontier that they can stick their flagpole in.” She snorted at her own joke.

“I can’t believe I’m popping my cherry to some stranger.”

His tone drew concern, “You don't have to go through with this. You can hang here and watch some tv.  Jonny won't care if you bail.”

It was nice of Judy to offer him a way out given his anxiety over it all.

“No. I want it. I wanna know what it's like.”

Perhaps it’s better this way.

He won’t be so attached should the experience turn out to be a total downer. 

It made him think of Jean for the first time in a long time. They had fun together in his little red Falcon convertible. He still smiles thinking about it. The happy times at least.

 

~*~

 

Last summer, Judy had gotten an invite to a happening at Jean Marino's place and Patrick was to be her plus one since she was between boyfriends at the time. He remembers Mrs. Lloyd having to stop at a Sears so Pat could buy some swim trunks cause apparently Jean had a pool. Judy laughed at his tiny red shorts, said he was, “Full Malibu Ken.”

They got there when the party was in full swing. The living room had a sweet sound system, speakers blaring the Beach Boys. The whole place looked more like a bachelor pad than a family home. Everyone on the dance floor nearly put out their backs with the wild ways they contorted and shook their bodies to the beat.

Outside was a bit more mellow. A lazy atmosphere perfect for pool lounging. A single record player in the corner played “Dream Lover” by Bobby Darin. Pat and Judy split when he made for the lounge chairs and she went to say hello to Jean.

He bathed in the sunlight after applying some Coppertone tanning lotion. Pat was ignored for the most part which let him sink into relaxation for a spell.

“Hey Pat, Jean gives his welcome.”

Judy got back and was settling her things in the free chair beside him.

“Tell him I said thanks for the hospitality when we leave.” Pat's eyelids were closed under his shades.

He felt eyes on him.

He pulled his glasses down and searched his perimeter. Not a single person gazed his way.

Judy snorted, “What's with the suspicion, Patty? You hear some commies?”

Patrick's brows knit together, “Felt eyes on me. I don't like to be stared at.”

She laughed, “Well could you blame them when _that's_ all you're wearing?”

He slid his shades back on, “Whatever.” And flipped over to tan his backside.

“I don't think that's helping your cause, hon’.”

“Ugh, fuck off.”

After a full thirty minutes on each side and a healthy serving of hot dogs and watermelon, Pat decided to cool off with a dip in the pool.

“Pat, you just ate! You're gonna cramp and drown!” Judy screeched from under her sun hat as Pat dove off the deep end.

“It's an old wives tale, sweetie!” He yelled back before hitting the water.

He swam around, smacked a beach ball, grooved to the music underwater; he even let Judes on his shoulders for some pool noodle jousting. It was an all-around far out time.

He thought about exiting the pool and having a toke of some of the grass he smelled earlier while he lurked in the pool like a shark. 

Only his eyes were above water. And that's when he spotted the man of the hour, surrounded by his boys. Patrick nearly choked.

Jean Marino looked like a Greek god. The natural bronze of his skin glowed in the orange light of the setting sun. And he had these earthy green eyes that popped against his thick black lashes. His wet wavy hair was slicked black, exposing the chiseled contours of his face.

He sat on the steps of the pool, his shoulders and arms above water where they spread on the cement floor. Jean mouthed the words to a song Pat couldn't remember. His sight having dominated all other senses though he was sure his heart pounded double against his chest.

Jean stopped bopping his head and singing when he met Pat's gaze. He must've sensed the heat behind his eyes cause he didn't say a word. He also didn't look away.

Pat rose his head fully above water and swallowed.

He exited the pool and headed for the bathroom.

When he got out, Judy and Jean were waiting for him in the hallway. Jean eyed him first.

“Oh, hey Pat!” Judy smiled. “Jean wanted me to introduce you.”

Jean held out his hand, “Hello, I- I'm Jean Marino. I live here.”

Pat was relieved he stuttered. “Pat Kane,” he shook his hand. His grip was warm but firm.

“Well, guess I'll leave you boys to chat.” Judy left. Probably to go make eyes at Richard Stevens, whom she met at the tiki bar earlier.

They were still holding hands.

“So Pat, Judy tells me you're from LA.”

“Yeah. I just moved here about two years ago.” He smiled toothily, like an idiot.

“Can't say I've been around much. I live in a bubble. I visited Yosemite once, that was an experience.”

Patrick huffed a laugh.

Jean smirked, “Judy also tells me, you two aren't steady.”

He bit his lips and shook his head no.

“What do you say we take this talk upstairs? I can show you my room.”

His memory hazed from there but somehow he and Jean ended up passionately making out on his bed. And it was fervor like he never felt before.

Jean broke apart first, “Wow, you've got quite the mouth on you.”

Pat giggled, “Thanks.” He licked his lips.

Jean groaned, “Come here.”

Pat loved it. He loved the solid weight of Jean on top of him, pinning him down with his bulk. He thinks Jean played water polo or something. He moaned whenever Jean tugged his hair. The pain from his scalp sent tingles down his spine.

“I've been watching you all day,” Jean panted.

Pat could hardly believe it, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Seeing this tight bottom in those swim trunks,” he grabbed hand fulls of Pat’s ass. “You left little to the imagination. Though I think I'll be imagining you quite a lot after today.”

“Why imagine, when you can have me?”

Jean's head dropped to Pat’s shoulder. “Please-”

“Hey, Pat! It's 9 o'clock, that's your curfew buzz. My mom's here.” Judy rapped on the other side of the door.

Patrick deflated. “Fuck. I'm sorry Jean.”

“Don't be, darling.” Pat flushed. Jean pecked his lips one more time, “Look me up in the phone book, under J. Marino. I'm a junior so it's my dad's name.”

“I'm a junior too.”

Jean looked genuinely charmed, “Can't wait to find out what else we have in common.”

Pat was dazed when he got to the car.

Judy laughed, “Have a good time?”

Patrick had meant to say, _Not as good as you and Richard Stevens,_ but he only smiled in return, like a dope.

Mrs. Lloyd gave him a look through the rearview mirror that said she was gonna tell Pat's mom about her delinquent son.

Jean was a dream. He was this super sweet Catholic boy who never even cussed and was born into a life of preppy wealth and country clubs. If Pat was a chick he'd marry him. But he wasn't so he enjoyed whatever stolen moments they had together before the inevitable heartbreak.

Didn’t stop them from doing couple shit, though. They had dinner with each others families, they went to concerts together, to the drive-ins, they'd park his red Falcon in obscure locations where no one would find them just to make out and rub off in the back seats. Mostly Pat, Jean never let himself come. He said it would be a sin if he did. Yet he had no objections whenever Patrick creamed his pants. He always felt so bad when Jean got blue balls.

“Doesn't it hurt, babe?”

“Yeah, but don't worry about me.” He kissed Pat's nose. “Seeing you come is just as good.”

They were like that throughout the fall of junior year. No one saw anything wrong. To the rest of the world, they were the best of friends, but Pat knew he was in love.

And then along came Elaine.

She had an ugly fake orange tan and short platinum bouffant hair. Like some knock-off Jayne Mansfield.

_It's just to throw the hounds off my scent, Pat._ That's what Jean had told him. She was supposed to be a date for his dad's company dinner, a one-time thing. By December, Jean grew more distant. They hung out less and less. Even Erica noticed Pat was feeling bummed.

Jean dumped him a week before Christmas.

The bastard had the nerve to cry through it all, “Pat? Patrick? God, will you please look at me?”

They were in the front seat of his red Falcon, parked in some random neighborhood.

Pat faced forward the entire time, but then he braved a look to his side.

His tears made his green eyes glow something nuclear. Pat was sure his own blues were rimmed red from holding everything back, even with his heart at his throat.

“I'm sorry-”

“No, you're not.”

“I had to-”

“No. You didn't.”

“I love-”

Patrick snapped. He finally faced Jean's direction, “Don't. Don't you fucking lie to me! You're gonna tell me we're through and I'm gonna hop out your piece of shit car and never have to see you ever again.”

“Oh. Goodbye, Pat.” He leaned in for a last kiss. Pat turned away.

“Bye, loser.” He hopped off and slammed the door.

He supposes all dreams must end.

He was glad Jean looked hurt. He was also glad Jean attended a separate private school and lived on the north side of town. Avoiding him should’ve been easy. He wasn't worried about Jean telling anyone. Exposing Patrick would mean exposing himself.

His first love. The only boy who ever held him tight and caressed him like he was something precious. Jean gave him every compliment under the sun. And Pat finally experienced what all those ballad singers crooned about.

 

~*~

 

Jean’s the guy Patrick should’ve lost his virginity to.

It should’ve been all lovey-dovey and momentous.

Instead, he got all decked up for some stranger that he told his parents Judy set him up with on a blind date.

But he wanted this. He reminded himself he wanted this.

Patrick and Judy waited outside in her driveway.

It was quiet that afternoon. Nothing but crickets and the occasional car driving by.

“So,” she started, “Are you gonna take it or is he?”

“Ugh, not cool Judes. That's private.”

She smacked her lips affronted. Before she could defend herself, a black Impala pulled up to the curb and honked.

Richie leaned out the passenger window, “Judy, my love! Your chariot awaits.”

“Oh, Richard! My chivalrous prince. Get out and open the door for me.”

Pat snickered and then noticed the driver tilting his head forward to look at him. When their eyes met, the stranger arched an imperious brow. Patrick arched his mockingly in return before heading over. When he reached, the roof of the convertible was retracting.

“You guys don't mind if I put the roof down? It was a scorcher today.” Is what the driver says. His voice managed to be both flat and decadent. He's got on a dark leather jacket and a plain white t-shirt, untucked.

“Yeah, man. I don't care. Judy, Pat, you mind?”

Judy replies, “Not at all.”

Pat simply shook his head no, earning another curious gaze from the driver.

“Hey, Pat! I almost forgot,” Richie motioned towards the driver's seat. “That's my pal, Jonny. Say hi Jon.”

He revealed his teeth with the makings of a smile. It was really more of a grimace.

Jonny. He couldn't get over the fact his name was _Jonny_. Like those PSA's warning you about degenerates smoking the reefer.

The hand resting on the steering wheel gave a little wave, “Hey.”

Jonny shut in on himself when Pat's only response was silence.

Judy and Richie failed to notice.

“Okay, do I climb over or?”

“Yeah, baby. One leg at a time. Don't hurt yourself.”

“I wouldn't have to put myself at risk if _you’d_ get a license and your own car.”

Richie laughed her off, “Isn't she a peach, Jonny?”

The two boys watched as Judy bent over the front seats to reach the back in her mini skirt. Jonny turned to Rich and gave him a look as if to say, “nice,” and he preened at his friend's approval with a grin that split his face.

The first sign Jonny actually dug him was when it was Pat's turn to hop to the back of his Impala and the dude blatantly stared at his ass. Rich slapped Jonny's arm snapping him from his stupefied expression. Richard then proceeded to wiggle his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Jonny tossed his head back and laughed. Pat stared at his elongated neck.

His gaze met Jonny's in the rearview mirror, but Patrick rolled his eyes and looked away.  

Patrick watched the buildings pass by and never joined in whatever everyone was discussing. He closed his eyes and felt the wind comb through his hair.

Thankfully Jonny blasted the radio loud enough so that no one felt the need to fill the silence by talking. He was able to ignore the awkward heady tension between Judy and Rich, nevermind his own buzzing nerves.

Jonny was a smooth driver. Like he went cruising on the regular when he had nothing better to do. Patrick couldn't tell if he was socially stunted on purpose or if he was just naturally so aloof and detached; saw himself above it all. He's probably a wallflower at shindigs.

Pat could do detached. It'll be better this way.

They arrived at Jonny’s house about fifteen minutes later.

It wasn't Jean's bachelor pad, but it was a modest ranch-style home, designed to look modern. A starter home for the corporate housewife.

The gang made their way in after Jonny struggled with the lock for a while, the only crack in his cool exterior the whole night. He huffed a laugh to himself when he nearly stumbled through the doorway. “Home sweet home. Make yourselves comfy.”

The interior kept with the modern theme with a keen earthy color scheme.

Rich strode in and made his way to the kitchen. He snagged brews for everyone.

Judy wasted no time. Soon as Richie sat down on the living room sofa he had a lap full of her. She chugged from her bottle and set it on the coffee table behind her. Without a coaster.

“Apologies to your mother, Jonathan.” The whole time her eyes never left Richie’s. She wore the same look of determination she had once directed at Patrick nearly four years ago. Except this time, Richie's gaze returned the same blaze full of want and intent.

Patrick was uncomfortable just standing there.

“No worries, Judy. I'll blame it on Davy.”

A throat cleared near him and he felt a hand on his elbow.

He looked up. It was Jonny.

His eyes looked ink black in the car, but up close you saw the hints of amber.

“Who’s Davy?” Asked Patrick.

“My brother. Wanna give them some privacy?”

 

~*~

 

Jonny’s room was pretty standard for guys their age.

Some clothes on the ground. A few sports trophies on shelves. Childhood photos. A closet. Drawers. Lamps. A desk. A bed.

There was also a record player. Where Jonny currently stood sifting through records in a crate by his desk.

Patrick set his beer on the nightstand.

He sat gingerly on the made-up bed still feeling awkward in a stranger’s home and took in the sight of Jonny’s tall form. He let his eyes roam and thought if he got past the nervous jitters that maybe he was gonna get to enjoy himself.

A guitar and steady drumbeat began as soon as he dropped the needle.

Jonny sang along, “If I can find the words in my mind. The words could explain, but the words won't come.”

He removed his jacket and tossed it over his desk chair, “If you can see what you mean to me. My words should explain, but my words won't come.”

His bare arms were now free for Patrick’s rapt attention. The white of his t-shirt was nearly sheer where it pulled against his muscles. He wondered if Jonny had played water polo.

Jonny sat on the bed and pulled out a drawer, still humming along. There’s was a hidden compartment inside.

“And oh how hard I try to tell you, ‘I love you.’”

Jonny pulled out a brown paper bag. It reeked.

Jonny leapt back, effectively bouncing Patrick at the edge of the mattress. He laughed at his disgruntled expression and continued to sing, “But something holds me back when I try to tell you, I lo-“

“Stop it.”

Jonny freezes from where he was rolling his bud.

“What?”

“ _Singing_.”

Laughter cracked his mask of confusion. It shook his shoulders and tilted his head back.

“Patrick, it's just a song. What, I can't sing in my own room?”

He looked him sideways, “You sound terrible.”

Jonny was only amused by this. He sniggered before lighting his joint. Patrick followed the rolled paper being brought to his lips and watched his cheeks hollow.

The bed dipped behind him where Jonny leaned on his arm. He felt a gust of smoke brush the skin of his nape, “You nervous?”

Pat hunched his shoulders.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Jonny placed soft kisses along the side of his neck while reaching for his hand. His lips were hot.

_But I don't even know you._  He thought.

“Come on,” Jonny said when he finally clasped their fingers. His lips moved against his jawline.

Jonny took another long toke before smothering his mouth against Patrick's. His lips parted involuntarily from surprise and the smoke transferred from Jonny's mouth into his.

Patrick exhaled with a cough. His eyes watered.

Jonny kissed the hand he was holding, “You good?”

“I feel heavy.”

He felt stupid.

Jonny hummed. He traced patterns with the fingers of his free hand on Pat's face, planting kisses wherever his fingers trailed off.

“You’re so pretty, Pat,” he kissed his lips. “You've got some mouth on you.” His index finger was tracing his cupid’s bow.

Patrick pushed him away.

“Stop.”

Jonny frowned, “Now what?”

“I’m not a girl, asshole.”

“Guys can be pretty too.”

“Well don’t- Stop trying to romance me. That’s _not_ what this is.”

Jonny grinned with a tilt to his head, “You flustered? That's cute.”

Patrick blushed.

Jonny laughed some more and put out his blunt.

“I made no presumptions. Figured we’d go where the night took us. And look,” he motioned to his bed, “we ended up here.”

Patrick took a deep, albeit shaky breath, “I've never-"

“Who was it?”

He couldn’t place his tone.

“Huh?”

Jonny looked sore,“Look, Pat, guys like us are bound to run into some jerks. And you're looking like you're willing yourself into doing something you don't want to. Who's the asshole that fucked you over?”

“Jean Marino.”

He scoffed, “You're kidding. That panty-waist landed a piece like you?”

“He was… nice.”

He honestly didn't know why he was suddenly so defensive about Jean. The guy was an ass.

Jonny crossed his arms,“Uh-huh. Until he met that chick, Elaine at the dance hall.”

He whimpered. “You were there?”

Jonny shook his head. “Man, what a skuzz. Pastor dick must've scared him off.”

Patrick blanched. He felt something cold and ugly seep into his spine.

“What are you talking about?”

“St. Francis is filled with perverts.”

The needle must've skidded off at some point, disrupting the music, cause all he heard was the soft scratching of the record player.

He blinked repeatedly, “Don't say that about him! How could you even think that?”

“Buddy, I'm not making this shit up. How demented do you think I am?”

He isn't sure if he's nauseous from the weed. He thought distantly that maybe he might be having heart palpitations.

“I don't know! After seeing how much dope you got in your underwear drawer, your mental state is questionable.” Pat nearly knotted his tongue trying to form words.

There was a pause.

“Why are you so riled up at me for?”

“This is so wrong.”

And just like that, the prospect of having sex that night seemed more than improbable. 

He didn’t feel heavy anymore. Instead, he felt tired.

Patrick blinked before averting his gaze elsewhere. He pawed at his shirt collar where the laundry tags were making him itch. He looked up when he noticed Jonny was being quiet.

Jonny was squinting at him, his gaze assessing… something.

He let up, seeming to reach his own conclusion, “Oh-ho, I get it.”

“Get what?”

He answered, “You're not over your loverboy yet.”

“What?”

“It's cool, no sweat. We could just hang. Want me to bring the tv in here? Takes a while to set-up.”

He doesn't know why he felt so off balanced. He thought about what Rich and Judy were probably up to right now.

“But Rich and Judy-"

Jon snorted,“Yeah, they're not watching the Ed Sullivan show in there, that's for sure.”

“But- don't you wanna?”

He sighed, “Patrick, I think you need to ask yourself that question.” Jonny got up to leave the room.

Patrick stopped him,“Wait!” Jonny turned around, “I want this.”

It wasn’t a lie. He still wanted to have this experience. To lose himself with someone else for a while. And Judy was right, this guy was a total hunk.

Patrick got up and walked right up to him. He palmed the sides of his neck and dragged his hands down Jonny’s chest. He looked up into his eyes, “I wanna feel it.”

Jonny’s breaths came short, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I wanna feel you, Jonny.” Pat remembered Judy told him guys went wild when you said their names.

Jonny kissed him with a newfound ferocity. He took control and it was like being engulfed by flames. Not that Pat’s ever been lit on fire before, but he has no reference for whatever happening now.

When they broke away, Jonny gulped more than swallowed, “Do you- have you ever sucked a dick before?”

“No,” Pat replied honestly

He scoffed, “Such a waste. What the hell did Jean do with you?”

Patrick suddenly felt naive and shy. “We'd… kiss and feel each other up until I came.”

Jonny walked him backwards, “I'd see you guys, you know?”

_“What?”_

The back of his knees hit the bed.

He laughed, “Not like that. You guys were always hanging out around town. You looked happy. _Really_ happy.”

Jonny knocked them both onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. He was a heavy weight on top of him. And warm, like a human furnace.

“Richie told me what happened.” He placed a placid kiss on his lips, “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“He’s the one that needs to apologize.”

They continued their exchange of bites and kisses, even some tongue, before stripping their clothes. Every inch of skin revealed was a new place for Jonny to kiss and fondle.

It was addicting, the feeling of being engrossed in someone else’s affections. Having and holding all their attention. He’d experienced it with Jean. It was like the highest form of validation. Almost like being worshipped.

Jonny finally pushed away to pull a bottle of lube and some condoms from under his bed after successfully numbing Pat’s lips with his own.

Patrick hadn’t been able to see much of Jonny’s physique when he was pinned to the bed, but now that he was resting on his elbows, he saw _a lot._ Jonny was all six-foot-two inches of lean muscle. Patrick thought maybe he might’ve played football instead of water polo. Judy had mention surfing and the even bronze of his skin showed. As did the abs sculpted from cutting ocean waves. If he were standing, Pat’s knees would’ve buckled at the sight of his cock alone. How can an appendage be so attractive? It looked so unfairly perfect it matched the rest of him. Pat nearly salivated.

He warmed at the lascivious way Jonny stared up and down his naked body. Something Jean never cared to do too much of since their hookups were rushed and clothed. His dark eyes roamed as if to map out every curve of him. He stalked forward and tossed the roll of condoms somewhere on the bed.

Jonny cradled his face and licked his way into his mouth. Patrick’s only ever kissed two other people, but he is certain Jonny’s an expert. Not sloppy or eager, but sure and wet with a soft tongue.

“Your french is an art form,” he panted against Jon’s lips.

He chuckled, “Merci pour le compliment.”

“Oh my God, you speak French.”

It was then that Jonny finally gripped his dick and Patrick keened. He back arched up off the bed like he was being sucked into a laser beam.

“You’re so gone, man.” Jonny sounded bewildered.

Pat cried into his mouth with each stroke of his hand.

He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he felt something warm and slick slide along his cheeks and his lids flew open. They were fingers, he realized.

Jonny’s lips and the tight heat of his working fist distracted him enough so that first finger slipped right in. None of this was thoroughly premeditated on Patrick's behalf. He knew he liked a warm hand on his dick. He wasn't sure about assplay, but this felt all right.

Pat sighed and clenched. “Pat, I never said- and you’re not really complaining under me, but I really didn’t make any presumptions. If you don’t wanna do it this way, just like, stop me at any time.”

He moaned and said nonsensically, “Yeah, Jonny.”

Patrick was distantly aware of Jonny carelessly humping the bed. His hands occupied with jerking his dick and stretching his hole. He appreciates his attentiveness.

Pat wasn’t on edge but he was floating.

Three fingers in, he felt Jonny spread them a little and curve up.

Patrick jerked up and gasped. He felt something hot flare his insides and excite his nerves. His hole clamped as a reflex. Pat started wiggling his hips hoping to fuck himself back on Jon’s fingers.

Jonny laughed above him. “You are so gone,” he repeated. “And you’re eyes are like-” When Patrick squeezed around his fingers again, he groaned, “Fuck.”

He smacked a chaste kiss to his lips before freeing his fingers to get a condom.

His ass felt weird being empty after having been stretched open. Surely Jonny will remedy that soon.

Having broken from his sensational stupor he noticed how still the room was. He missed the music.

Pat moved to roll over. Jonny tugged him back by the hip and fell onto the crisp sheets. He chuckled, “I can’t even believe you. Turn around, you’re not gonna pretend it ain’t me when I’m in there.”

Patrick, “I-” he forgot what he was gonna say when his mouth formed an involuntary “o” when Jonny shoved his fingers back in.

Jonny lined himself up, “Now Pat, I’ma need you to take a deep breath babe.”

He heard him mutter a string of curses under his breath when his hole clenched again at the first press of his tip in anticipation. The hand Jonny had holding his hip slid down to grip the back of his thigh. He braced his weight onto his other arm beside Patrick to avoid crushing him.

Pat followed his orders and took one deep breath. There was little resistance when Jonny slid home in one long push.

The stretch burned. Jonny felt way bigger this way.

They were both heaving like they’d just ran ten laps around Sacred Heart’s football field.

Jonny pulled back slowly until just the tip was in. He looked down and pressed a hand to where they were connected and felt the ring of muscle stretched around the girth of his cock. He then gripped Pat’s hip and slid an arm around his thigh to bend his leg.

It was those short, shallow thrusts that made his body sing. Warm tingles moved in waves throughout his body, emanating from his core. Patrick practically roared his pleasure. He never thought he’d be this vocal. Jonny seemed to love it though.

Jonny lifted the leg he was holding and draped it over his shoulder. His thrusts became deeper. He moved steadily and unhurried.

Patrick blinked his eyes open. Jonny was looking down on him, mouth slack, lips swollen. His cheeks were blotchy, his hair rumpled, and his eyes glazed. He looked beautiful.

“Man, you're unreal,” Jonny said so ardently in a gravelly voice.

There was no more talking after that. Jonny pistoned his hips at a quicker pace and Patrick could do no more than to hold on and claw at his back. The bed began to thump against the wall. There was a rhythmic clap when hip met hip. Any attempt at kissing resulted in them smashing their open mouths together and puffing on each other’s faces.

Patrick couldn’t think feeling this high. The world beyond them was far from his mind. All he could focus on was the spine-melting bursts of pleasure that gushed through him each time Jonny thrust his hips forward. The build-up was gradual like the climax of a song.

His cock, which hadn’t been touched since Jonny first slid his in, was leaking onto his stomach. Pat’s moans sounded desperate, like a snared animal begging to be freed. Jonny wasn’t much better with his grunts and sighs, the occasional guttural cries. He lost himself just as much as Pat did.

Patrick felt everything increase in intensity all at once. It wiped out his mind and he came when Jonny snuck a hand to clumsily stroke him three times.

He heard Jonny say some shit but it was all muddled.

Patrick’s body felt so lax and floaty, like starfishing in a pool.

He came to and stared at Jon’s doped up face. Pat traced his hands up his neck and face and dug into his hair. So brown and soft. He smiled at him.

Jonny came like a star. First, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, then he looked like he’d been slapped. Patrick could laugh. He felt his hard dick swell before shooting off in his ass and filling the condom. He imagines it would’ve been a mess had they not bothered to use one.

Jonny pulled out and Patrick gingerly lowered and stretched out his legs.

Patrick grabbed a pillow and held it in his arms. He laid there for a beat. Jonny apparently started the record player again, but this time it was a slow ballad.

He put on pajama bottoms and threw himself onto the bed.“Hey, you alright?” He said after lighting his roll again.

Pat sighed, “Yeah, man.”

“Cool. You uh, you looked good. Should’ve said that earlier. Did you dress up for me?”

Patrick didn’t know how this dude was so talkative after… all that.

“Well…”

“You thought this was a date?”

“I made no  _presumptions._ Maybe I just don’t like to look like trash.”

“Hey.” Patrick looked at him. “Only if you want it to be,” said Jonny.

There was a pause that stretched too far.

Patrick stood to put on his clothes and look for Judy. Maybe they’d grab a bite before heading home. His stomach felt empty. His mouth felt like he’d swallowed cotton balls.

Jonny cleared his throat, “And if you ever get tired of riding your skateboard everywhere, give me a call and I’ll give you a ride.”

Patrick only looked at him. Jonny was half dressed on a ruined bed, journeying further and further into space with each toke of his skunk. Jonny smiled at him with a new twinkle in his eye.

“Why are you alone in this house anyway?”

“My brother’s having a sleepover at a friend’s house. And my folks are visiting my grandmère in Québec.”

“So you’re Canadian?”

Jonny grinned, “Yep.” He popped the “p.”

Pat rolled his eyes and left to find his hopefully clothed friend to get the chomp on some burgers.

There were aches in tender areas each step. He didn’t know what to expect. Maybe he’d hoped for some big universal shift, but Jonny wasn’t a lover; he was just some dude.  Still, Pat felt good.

After Judy had her fill of grilling him with her questions and laughing at the noises that did escape Jonny’s room, Patrick discovered Richie straight up passed out after he came which was apparently too soon for Judy’s taste. She mentioned a Jimmy from Ojai who’s rumored to have great stamina from playing basketball.

Patrick definitely had zero complaints from the fucking he was treated to.

He got home at nearly eleven. Everyone slept yet he found his mom sipping tea in the kitchen with her nightgown and hair already pinned.

“How was your date, sweetie?”

“I had a blast, mom. That girl I was with- she was cool.”

There was a certain gladness to her gaze from the rim of her coffee mug.

“What?”

“You look happy.”

 It was then that he realized he was smiling.

She herself was biting back a grin,“I’m glad you had fun, baby.”

His mom tightened her robe and exited the kitchen.

There he stood alone looking like a loon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There was potential here that was unfulfilled.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/tgonzo%2317/playlist/51VXH7EquYMe52zxy7RsKh


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